Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (4 page)

“We can always sit on packing crates and eat our dinner from our laps like hobos,” Vivian said. “It's been done, you know.”

“Well, of course it's been done. I'm just not certain I care to do it myself,” Louise responded crisply. “Being a gypsy is fine for some people. But it's never been my cup of tea. Besides that, the movers are set to pick up and deliver my things on Tuesday.” She sighed. “That means we'll be spending most of the weekend figuring it out and packing it up.”

“I can hardly wait,” Vivian said in a tired tone.

“Perhaps you won't need too much,” he said to encourage her.

Vivian smiled. “You obviously do not know my sister well. She needs her porcelain teacups and sterling service…her 800-thread-count bed linens and Egyptian towels.”

Louise made a
humph
sound. “I simply enjoy my comforts—even more so as I grow older.”

“Do you think we'll wear a path through here?” Vivian asked as they walked through the lavender twilight. “Between houses, I mean…over the summer.”

“Time will tell,” Louise said. This time her voice sounded gentler.

Blake didn't really understand it, but for some unexplainable reason he liked these two ladies a lot. He was curious to hear more about them. And perhaps even interested in meeting Louise's daughter—Janice Grant.

“Here we are,” announced Louise as she opened the door.

“Home sweet home,” Vivian murmured.

The women went into the house while Blake set out in search of their water valve box amongst the tall grass. The last of the twilight was quickly evaporating, and as he noticed the flickering candlelight through the salt-crusted windows, he realized he should've brought a flashlight along. Fortunately, their valve was located similarly to his own, and after some strenuous twisting, the stubborn metal handle finally creaked and turned. Replacing the heavy lid on the box, he stood and brushed sand from his hands and smiled with satisfaction. For a city guy, he was learning fast.

Now he went over and stuck his head in the still open door. “I think you should have water now, ladies.”

“Yes!” Louise called back. “I can hear the toilet filling.”

“You are a miracle worker,” Vivian told him as she came to the door. “I'd invite you in for a cup of tea or something, but as you can see we are rather Spartan just now. Still, you will take a rain check, won't you?”

“Absolutely.” He pointed to the darkened fireplace. “I could build you ladies a fire to take the chill off of the place, if you like.”

Vivian looked hopeful, then frowned. “Except we have no firewood.”

“Give me five minutes and I'll be back with some,” he said.

“You are a dear boy!”

He grinned, wondering when the last time was that anyone had called him “boy,” as he hurried back towards his house. Then, feeling like a Boy Scout, he gathered kindling, newspaper, and firewood. Piling them into the canvas firewood carrier he'd recently purchased at the hardware store, he headed back.

“There you are,” said Louise as she opened the door for him. “Our guardian angel.”

He set his bundle on the hearth, using the mini flashlight he'd pocketed, then peered up into the dark chimney. “One thing I learned the hard way,” he explained, “is to always open the flu
before
you start a fire.”

“Yes,” said Louise, “that's usually the best way to do it.”

It took a few minutes and a couple of false starts, but he eventually got the fire crackling and snapping. Then he turned around to see that the sisters had put together a nice little indoor camp, complete with two nylon camping chairs, sleeping bags, and a few other necessities.

“Very cozy in here.” He smiled with approval.

“It almost seems a shame to ruin this ambience with real furniture,” Vivian said sadly.

“You'll be singing a different song come morning,” Louise said. “I know my arthritis will be screaming by then.”

Vivian sighed. “Hopefully not.”

Louise turned back to Blake, clasping his hand in both of hers. “Thank you so much for your help, Blake.”

“Yes,” Vivian agreed. “Please know you are welcome at our campfire anytime.”

He smiled. “Thank you both. Now I will leave you ladies to your little campout.”

But before he could leave, Louise asked him to write down his phone number. “Not that we plan to bother you,” she assured him.

“No problem. You feel free to call if you need anything,” he said.

“I do think I might adopt him,” Vivian said to Louise.

“You and me both.” Louise grinned at him. “In fact, I can hardly wait to tell my Janice about you, Blake Erickson.”

“Pleasant dreams,” he called out as he closed the door. Feeling amused, he cut back through the grass again. Vivian was probably right. At this rate, they would wear a trail between their houses. Perhaps he'd even cut the grass and make the trail easier to navigate for the older women.

As he went into his house, he wondered again about Louise's daughter, Janice. They say you can judge a daughter by the mother…and Louise was nice enough, although perhaps not as attractive as her sister. But she certainly had energy and spunk—especially considering her age. He surveyed his messy “bachelor's pad” again. He'd enjoyed being a hermit, but maybe it was time to clean up his act now. For all he knew, he might even do some summertime entertaining before long—maybe even for someone beyond elderly women.

He was stuffing a pile of dirty laundry into the washing machine when he heard the phone ringing. He'd gone ahead and installed a landline as a backup to his cell phone. But only a limited number of people knew that number—and it was close to midnight. But perhaps it was Vivian and Louise needing help with another problem.

“Hello?” he answered curiously.

“Blake!”
His ex-wife's tone was sharper than usual. “We need to talk.”

“Gia.” He kept his voice even. “What's up?”

“It's Sis,” she said curtly. “You're going to have to take her for the summer.”

“Take
her?” He tried not to sound overly sarcastic. But it was ironic that Gia was acting as if he hadn't been pleading with her for weeks, even months, to have Sicily come visit him in Martha's Vineyard.

“Yes. Gregory is having a rough go with Alexandria and Victoria right now.”

“Oh?” Blake controlled himself from saying “I told you so,” but he had specifically warned Gia that Gregory's daughters might be a problem. After spring break the girls' mother had gone into a treatment program, landing them in their father's Malibu house.

“Alexandria and Victoria used to be such nice girls,” Gia was saying. “But they've turned into these monsters. I don't know what's wrong with them. And having them and Sicily…well, it's a mess, Blake. I can't deal with it.”

“It's called adolescence,” he told her. “It can bring out the worst in a kid. Fortunately, it won't last for long.”

He didn't mention that the last time he'd seen those two girls they were downright rude to their father. At the time he'd reasoned that was simply what happened when you ignored kids for too long. Exactly why he felt a Hollywood upbringing wasn't healthy for most children. And why he wanted to have his daughter spend more time with him—and why he'd agreed to this house swap with his director friend Lincoln. To get Sicily away from there. He and Lincoln had agreed to a two-year swap to start with. Blake had come out here with high hopes of having Sicily here for summers and holidays…perhaps full-time. At first, Gia had been completely amicable to the whole idea, even encouraging him to take the plunge.

But before long, his plan had backfired. Shortly after relocating, he regretted his hasty decision to trade houses with Lincoln. Gia's attitude drastically changed right after he made the move. She'd grown increasingly cool and aloof, not to mention difficult. One time she actually accused him of abandoning his own daughter and talked about pressing legal charges. Whether her bad temper was Blake's fault or symptomatic of her troubled marriage and dysfunctional life, he couldn't be sure. But he'd felt extremely concerned for his nine-year-old daughter. And tonight Gia seemed to be confirming that concern as she ranted on about how bad things were in Malibu.

“Now Sis is starting to act out,” Gia continued. “She's acting like a spoiled brat. All week long she's been picking fights with Alex and Vic. She thinks she should have the same privileges as them. And she's always trying to compete with them. It's like she's nine going on sixteen. I can't take it anymore, Blake. You have to do something!”

“I'm perfectly happy to bring Sicily out here,” he assured her. “Want me to arrange for her flight?”

“Oh,
could you?”

“Absolutely. How soon can she be ready?”

“How soon can you book a flight?” Her voice oozed eagerness.

He looked at his desk calendar. “How about Monday?”

“That'd be great—if you can get it set up that soon.”

“Do you think that'll give her enough time to get ready and everything? Don't forget, Monday's only two days away.”

“If you can get a flight by Monday, I promise you she
will
be on it.” Gia made what sounded like a relieved sigh. “And I didn't mention it before, Blake, but I just got a small role on a TV pilot—it's a cop show. They start filming next week and I thought the girls would help watch Sicily while I'm at work. But then the three of them got into it this afternoon. And when Gregory got home, late as usual, Alex and Vic threw these dramatic little hissy fits. Obviously for their father's sake. Let's just say, it got pretty ugly around here.” She lowered her voice. “Gregory's girls are so spoiled, Blake. Gregory gives in to everything. He doles out money and gifts like that'll fix everything. But it only makes them act worse. Talk about entitlement. And I'm afraid Sis is going to end up exactly like them.”

“Oh, I'm sure Sicily won't be overly influenced by them, Gia.” He remembered the last time he'd spent time with his daughter: Easter weekend, a couple of months ago. Sicily had been a little lady when he took her to church with him, and then she'd had nearly perfect manners afterwards when he'd taken her to dinner at a friend's house in Laguna. It had been an amazing day, and he had the photos to prove it. “Sicily is a sweet and thoughtful little girl,” he assured his ex-wife. “Her bad-mannered stepsisters can't change that.”

Gia let out a jaded-sounding laugh. “Just so you know, Blake, your little darling might not be the same angel you thought she was. Don't forget, you haven't been around Sis these past couple of months.”

“No…no, I haven't.” He wished she wouldn't talk like that. He hoped Sicily wasn't listening.

“All right then, let me know about the flight. And don't forget to let the airlines know she's a juvenile traveling alone. My best friend Cynthia sent little Leo to visit his dad in Connecticut last month and the poor kid messed up his connection in Denver. He ended up in Cincinnati instead. It was a total disaster.”

“I'll have my travel agent handle the arrangements,” Blake assured her. “In fact, if we can't get a direct flight, which could happen since it's summer, I'll fly out and meet her at her first connection and see that she gets safely—”

“Oh, you don't need to do that. Sis will be just—”

“I
want
to do that, Gia.”

“Okay,” she snapped. “Fine. But it's a total waste of money.”

He wanted to tell her it was his money and he could waste it if he wanted to, but this was getting too close to sounding like an argument. He didn't need that. “So I'll let you know then,” he calmly told her.

“You won't let me down, will you, Blake?”

He wanted to ask her when he'd let her down before. At least since the divorce anyway. He knew he'd let her down a few times during the marriage. Workaholics did not make good spouses. “No problemo, Gia,” he said lightly to her. “And, hey, congrats on the new pilot. A cop show sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” she gushed. “It sounds like a network is already serious about picking it up. Judging by the script and the cast, I'm guessing it'll be a hit.” She continued with industry talk for several minutes. Once again, he was reminded of what he'd left behind…what he did not miss. Even so, he pretended to listen patiently as he turned on his laptop and started preparing an e-mail to his travel agent, explaining what he needed and when.

“Well, I gotta go now,” Gia chirped at him. “Thanks for being so willing to do this for me, Blake. I really appreciate it.”

“Happy to help out.” He inserted a smile into his voice. An act, perhaps, but an act he would gladly put on for the sake of Sicily's well-being. Because, as usual, the conversation was mostly about Gia, and he knew the best way to keep Sicily's life smooth was to simply play along. If his forced congeniality helped get Sicily out of LA and out of harm's way, it was well worth it.

His heart ached to think of his little darling being corrupted by the influence of those two teenaged girls. He felt sorry enough for the older girls, but there wasn't much he could do about their situation, other than to pray for them. He'd been praying for that whole family for a while now, ever since he'd finally returned to the faith of his boyhood last winter. As he turned on the washer, he realized that God really must've been listening, because it looked like he was about to get his daughter back—even if only for a summer. He just hoped that Sicily wouldn't be too upset about being plucked from her home and getting shipped off to the other side of the country.